*
Lizbeth spun in a circle, trying to get her bearings and accept Logan was really gone. Again. The bed was tossed, an unmistakable sign of their time together. The clothes she’d worn to dinner were in a heap on the floor. The clothes she’d worn when they went out earlier in the day dangled from the back of a chair. Well, the blouse did. The pants were tossed into the corner, along with the clothes she wore last night—God, had it only been a little over a day since she and Logan reconnected? The flogger he used an hour before lay tossed off to the side of the bed. The blindfold from earlier in the day hung from the bedpost.
When she came out of the bathroom after taking a shower, he’d been in the midst of tossing his clothes into his duffel bag. It took less than ten minutes to gather his things and get dressed for his drive back to Charlotte. Two minutes later, he wrapped up their hug and kiss, vowed to call when he got home so she’d know he arrived safely, and then he was gone.
A light tap on the door brought her attention back around as Lucas cracked the door open and stuck his head inside. “Hey.” His eyes dipped down, probably checking to make sure she was dressed. Seeing the robe, he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.
It was odd to see Lucas uncomfortable and at a loss for words, but as he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, it was obvious he didn’t have any idea what to say.
Reverting to her old ways in uncomfortable situations, she dropped her happy mask into place, put a smile on her face, and laughed like she didn’t have a care in the world. “This has a distinct déjà vu feel to it. I think we’ve”—she motioned back and forth between them—“been here before.
“No.” His voice was strong, almost angry, as he took a step toward her and shook his head. “This isn’t like before.”
The weight of his stare, coming from green eyes identical to Logan’s, cut through her facade, forcing her to turn away so he didn’t see the depths of her fear and pain. “It certainly feels like it. I understand his need to leave, I really do. Please don’t misunderstand. But…”
She fingered the blindfold and shivered when the flogger caught her attention again. As a lifetime of hurt rushed the levee she used to keep her emotions in check, cracks and leaks began to form. In an effort to keep everything locked tight, she drew in a deep breath and pulled the edges of the robe tight.
Making sure she kept her voice strong and steady, so as to not give away the hollow ache in her chest, she sank into one of the chairs and said, “If their divorce was final, I might think differently. But I know what he’s willing to sacrifice for his kids. And I don’t fault him for it.” Hell, his strong convictions in doing the right thing, as well as his loyalty to those he loved, were the things she loved most about him.
Lucas flipped around the other kitchen chair and sat in it backward, facing her. “There are only a few things I’m certain of. The sun will come up tomorrow, and it will set tomorrow night. The tide will roll in and the waves will crash onshore. And Logan loves you. His marriage is over, and even though this is a setback, he’ll figure out a way to make things work with you.”
His eyes softened and a small smile lifted his lips. “All of his life, Logan has been the good kid.” She laughed at his implication of not being quite so good. “He married Bobbi Jo because he thought it was the right thing and what our parents and society expected.” He shrugged and sighed. “He loves those kids more than life itself, and because of that, he’ll do whatever he needs to protect them, to take care of them, and make sure they have a roof over their heads. But he’s also ready to stop sacrificing everything he wants in the process of taking care of them.”
A roof over their heads…
Logan hadn’t told her anything about his phone calls with the kids, but they would obviously need a place to stay. As would Bobbi Jo.
She swallowed the knot in her throat and chewed on the inside of her lip. She hated the insecurity clawing away at her insides, but she couldn’t stop it. “Are they all moving to his place?”
Lucas’s eyes narrowed slightly before he masked his reaction. “I’m not sure what the arrangements are.”
“Bullshit.” Anger and fear for her future with Logan added extra bite to her reply. “I don’t think you’ve ever lied to me, so don’t start now.”
He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “His house has three spare bedrooms for the kids, so I’m sure they’ll stay with him for a while. Which makes things more difficult for you guys to”—his lips quirked as he glanced at the messy bed—“continue getting reacquainted. But…”
He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Look at me, Lizbeth. Look into my eyes and know I’m telling you the God’s honest truth.” He held her gaze for a moment, making sure she saw the honesty of his words. “He loves you. He’s always loved you. I believe, with every fiber of my being, this will work out for you guys.”
His tone was firm and strong and absolute, forcing her to believe he told the truth… at least as he believed it. When he stood to leave, she also stood and gave him a hug.
“Thanks, for everything. Now and then. I don’t think I ever thanked you for all you did back then. And I can never thank you enough for arranging this reunion.” As a cold chill settled over her again, she wrapped her arms around her waist and gave him the best smile she could muster under the circumstances. “No matter what happens, I’m incredibly grateful for this weekend with Logan.”
And she was. She wished she possessed Lucas’s faith, but regardless of what happened in the future, she would forever hold the memories of this weekend in her heart as a treasured gift.
Chapter Eleven
Even though Logan was making the trip from Myrtle Beach to Charlotte in record time, it still seemed to take forever. His mind swung from one disconnected thought to another, like a master trapeze artist, jumping and flipping and soaring at impressive heights without a net. He’d talked to each of the kids a couple times and finally got his heart to accept that, other than being scared and emotionally devastated over having lost everything, they were fine. They were at his house, and even though it wasn’t their primary home, they would be as comfortable as possible given the circumstances.
I should’ve been there… at least by phone.
He shook his head, trying to get the thought to break loose and leave him for good, but it wouldn’t be dislodged. He still couldn’t believe the one time they truly needed him he’d put his phone on silent and missed their calls. How could he shut them out without a thought?
But it wasn’t without a thought, was it?
And that was the issue causing him the most trouble. He’d made a conscious decision to turn his phone to silent so they wouldn’t interrupt his fuck fest with Lizbeth. And if he hadn’t gone to Myrtle Beach in the first place, he would’ve been in Charlotte, the kids would’ve been with him, and none of them would’ve been in danger.
A small, logical part of his brain able to get through the mental fireworks pointed out he was on the road all the time during race season. And if this happened during one of his race weekends, he wouldn’t beat himself up. After all, racing and his business paid for the house and all the things in it in the first place.
But he hadn’t been gone for work. He’d been off having fun, and he couldn’t seem to forgive himself for that. And what did that mean for him and Lizbeth in the long run? It wasn’t reasonable to expect her to travel all the time so he didn’t ever have to leave his kids again. Hell, never leaving them again wasn’t even a reasonable thought, especially when he traveled all the time for work.
He drew in a deep breath, pounded his fist against the dashboard, and roared into the cab of his truck, letting all the fear, anxiety, and madness escape before his head exploded.
It was nearly four a.m. when he exited the highway and wound his way through the streets of his neighborhood. Lights burned inside and out, and as he approached, he saw movement through the front windows.
Bob
bi Jo’s SUV was parked in the driveway, blocking his path to his garage—of course—so he parked at the curb, grabbed his bag from the backseat, and made his way up the sidewalk to the front door of his house, like a visitor.
How did her vehicle escape the fire?
As he fiddled with the keys in his hand, looking for the one that would open the front door—something he hadn’t done since he moved into the house—the door flew open and Maggie charged at him. He saw the launch coming as her feet left the ground, and he dropped his bag just in time to catch her.
She wrapped her tiny legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, nearly choking him, and burst into huge, heartbreaking sobs. Tears and snot ran down the side of his neck and soaked his shirt as his little girl cried herself out in his arms, standing on the sidewalk in front of his house. She was the most sensitive of all of his children, so of course, she would be the one home when the fire broke out.
He stood there for what seemed forever, rocking her back and forth, rubbing her back while reassuring her she was okay. Luke stepped up to the doorway and watched for a minute, then turned, went back inside, and shut the door behind him. Even though he hadn’t said a word, the pain he felt for Maggie had been written all over his face. Logan knew firsthand the natural bond his twins shared, and at some point, he needed to tell Luke it was okay to let Maggie know she wasn’t just a pain in his ass who got “half his birthday presents.”
When the sobs subsided into indelicate sniffles, Maggie leaned back, wiped her eyes, and nodded. “I’m okay now.” She gave him a weak smile and nodded again. “I’ve been trying to be brave for Mama, but I just needed to get it all out.” She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and ran her sleeve across her nose again. “Thanks for letting me cry all over you.”
He laughed, kissed her forehead, and said, “Anytime, pumpkin,” then set her on her bare feet. My God… does she have shoes? He couldn’t remember if she’d left any at his house or not, but if she’d been barefoot at home…
He drew in a deep breath and prayed for strength as he picked up his duffel, took her tiny hand in his, and headed toward the front door. Brianna was asleep on the couch, clutching a pillow so tightly to her chest she was about to squeeze the stuffing out of it. Luke was kicked back in Logan’s recliner, trying to play it cool.
After dropping his bag in the foyer, Logan asked Maggie, “You think you can sleep now?”
She nodded, then yawned and moved in to wrap her arms around his waist in a giant hug. “Yeah. Thanks, Daddy. And thanks for coming home early from your trip to Uncle Lucas’s.”
All the guilt he felt for not being home rammed him in the chest and stole his breath again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when it happened.”
She tilted back her head to look up at him and wrinkled up her cute little button nose as her shoulder lifted in a shrug. “There’s nothing you could’ve done anyway, so why are you sorry?”
He smiled and ruffled her hair. “I guess you don’t think I’m Superman anymore, huh?”
She giggled and squeezed his waist again. “I don’t think even Superman could’ve stopped that fire.” Her voice was small and sad as she turned away and climbed the stairs to her bedroom.
“How ya doin’, buddy,” he asked Luke as he swung out of the foyer into the living room. “I thought you were staying at Brian’s tonight.”
Luke shrugged and wiped his cheek across his shoulder, trying to hide the tears reddening his eyes. “I needed to be here with Mama and the girls.” He said it like the man of the house, protecting the girls from rogue Indians that might storm the fort. “I wouldn’t have been much fun for Brian anyway.”
Logan pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it over Brianna, then motioned for Luke to follow him into the kitchen. He was glad he and Lizbeth hadn’t split the bottle of wine they contemplated getting at dinner so he was able to drive safely. But by God, he was home now, and he needed a drink. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, tossed Luke a Dr. Pepper, then popped the top and guzzled half the can. After a few minutes of hanging out in the kitchen, a couple of guys drinking away the woes of the day, he said, “Thanks for taking care of things until I got back.”
Luke shrugged. “No biggie.” He played with the tab on his can. “I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t take me with you after all.”
Logan smiled, mostly to himself, and nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. But next time, we’ll all go.”
Luke tried to fight off a yawn, but after losing the battle, he said, “Since you’re home, I’m going to bed now.”
“Thanks for waiting up. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.” As Luke dumped the rest of his soda in the sink, Logan casually glanced around. “Where’s your mom?”
“She’s in your room. She said she needed a shower to wash off the smoke smell, and she never came back out.”
Logan’s heart thunked against the front wall of his chest as a thick, heavy queasiness sank into the pit of his stomach. He’d known when he pulled up and saw her vehicle in the driveway he would find she’d moved in and made herself at home. He also suspected he would find her in his bed, rather than in one of the kids’ beds or on the couch. He couldn’t say he was surprised by what Luke told him, but he was disappointed at being right.
“Get some sleep, pal. I’m going to find your mom.”
If he were a betting man, he’d take thousand-to-one odds he’d not only find Bobbi Jo in his bed, but she’d be naked. And… well, shit… that wasn’t only possible, but probable because, after all, her house and all her clothes had just burned to the friggin’ ground.
First thing tomorrow morning… this morning… as soon as everyone woke up, he’d be maxing out his credit card, getting everyone new wardrobes.
He turned off the television as he backtracked through the living room, then set the lamp’s dimmer switch to the lowest setting so Brianna would know where she was if she woke up before daylight. He grabbed his duffel from the foyer and headed down the hall to his bedroom, then found himself holding his breath as he pushed open the door.
And… yep… there she was, curled up in his bed, her back to the door, bare shoulders and upper back visible above the sheet.
The room was awash in a soft glow from the bedside lamp, which reflected off the highlights of her amber hair. When the door clicked closed, she rolled over to face him, then sat up and pulled the sheet with her. “Hey,” she said, brushing her hair away from her face before she glanced at the clock. “You made good time.”
He forced himself to ease up on the jaw clenching before he cracked a tooth as he dropped his bag next to the dresser. His mind jumped back on the trapeze and he shuffled his feet while searching for a suitable reaction to coming home from the best weekend of his life—which ended with one of his family’s worst nights—to find his soon-to-be ex-wife in his bed… naked.
He scrubbed his hand over his face and flopped down in the chair in the corner, suddenly exhausted. “How are you holding up?”
She swallowed hard and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I’ve never been so scared in my life, Logan.” Her voice cracked and she reached out a hand, indicating she wanted… needed him to come to her, to comfort her.
He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to take her hand or hold her in his arms. He wanted to be in Myrtle Beach, holding Lizbeth and making plans for their future. But he wasn’t a cold-hearted bastard, and she needed the same reassurances as Maggie. To not only know she was physically okay, but that he would help her through this catastrophe.
With a heavy heart, he pushed out of the chair and moved to the edge of the bed. She was larger than Maggie, but her reaction was nearly identical, and as soon as he reached the bed, she wrapped her arms around his neck, scooted over so her body was pressed to his, and broke out in big ugly sobs.
“Shh… shh… it’ll be okay.” He scooted up onto the bed, leaned back against the headboard, and cradled her against his side. “I’ve already talked to Joshu
a, the insurance agent, and he’s going to meet us at the house tomorrow. Well, later today. We’ll get new clothes for you and the kids, and together we’ll figure out where you’re going to live. Until then, you and the kids can stay here.”
The words burned the back of his throat because they were the last thing he wanted to say, the last thing he wanted to promise. But what choice did he have? His family needed help, and he couldn’t turn away from them. Or turn them away.
He didn’t know how Lizbeth would feel about his soon-to-be ex sharing his bed—probably the same way he would if the tables were reversed—but he’d have to figure out all of that later. Right now, he needed a few hours of sleep. So with thoughts of Lizbeth on his mind and her smell still on his skin, he closed his eyes and prayed he’d wake to find this part of the weekend had been a nightmare.
Chapter Twelve
Logan moaned with pleasure as Lizbeth’s lips brushed across his, then caressed the edge of his jaw, trailed kisses down his neck, and over his chest. His cock, following the trail and realizing it was the intended target, snapped to attention and twitched, craving the wet heat of her talented mouth. She kissed his nipple and he groaned again as he ran his fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp, then reached for the loose ends of her hair to wrap around his fist.
But something was wrong… She cut her hair? He loved her long hair flowing down her back… or over his chest when she kissed him like this. He loved wrapping the ends around his fist and controlling the tempo of her mouth… the depth. He flexed his fingers again, searching for the extra length, and came up empty. They hadn’t discussed how far they planned to take their Dominance and submission, or if it would extend beyond the bedroom, but he was going to spank her ass until she couldn’t sit for cutting off her hair.
When she licked a path down the center of his stomach and dipped her tongue into his belly button, he flinched and tightened his ab muscles. He didn’t like his belly button tickled this way, and she knew that. She did it once, he told her he didn’t like it, and she hadn’t done it since. So why was she doing it now?
Matter of Time Page 9